


The Trouble with Being a Professional Descendant

by Stackthedeck



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Coming Out, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Lesbian Anathema Device, M/M, No beta we fall like Crowley, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-09
Updated: 2019-08-09
Packaged: 2020-08-13 23:41:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20182657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stackthedeck/pseuds/Stackthedeck
Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley are getting married! This celebration of love makes Anathema question her own love. Is she staying with Newt because she loves him? Or is she staying with him because that's what Agnes told her to?





	The Trouble with Being a Professional Descendant

**Author's Note:**

> I personally headcanon that Newt is a trans woman but, I'm not trans so I don't feel comfortable writing a story about being trans. If anyone knows some really good Trans Newt fics, please tell me in the comments.

Anathema Device hadn’t been back to the states since the Apocalypse didn’t happen. She called her family regularly but they don’t seem eager to have her home. Anathema fulfilled her destiny, she can do anything now. Her family wants her to do anything she pleases, no pressure to save the world. Anathema doesn’t know how to be around her family without pressure.

So she bought Jasmine cottage. Tadfield is nice and there are nice people. Every time one of The Them has a birthday party, they make Anathema promise to attend the next one. And who is she to say no to the antichrist or one of his best friends. There’s also Newt. They’ve been dating for a couple of years now but, they haven’t rushed things. Newt still lives with his mother and works as a wage clerk. Anathema lives in Jasmine cottage. The first year they dated, they went on a date once a week. After the first year, they decided once a month is just fine. The first month of dating, they had sex a lot, but it never felt as good as the first time so they’ve stopped.

Anathema is sitting in Aziraphale’s bookshop, reading one of his treasured books of prophecy. She finds them amusing in the same way Crowley finds demons in horror movies amusing. Aziraphale is sitting across from her with a cup of cocoa and an ancient tome. The closed sign hangs in the window so that they’re undisturbed.

“Aziraphale.” Anathema puts her book down. “Can I ask you a question?”

Aziraphale takes a sip of his cocoa, turns a page of his book, puts a bookmark in it, closes it, and puts it on the table. “Of course, dear.”

“How long have you and Crowley known each other?” Anathema pushes her glasses up.

“Well, since the beginning.” Aziraphale smiles as if remembering a very fond memory. “More than 6,000 years.”

Right, they’re immortal. Their time span doesn’t translate easily to her situation. 

“Right,” Anathema sighs, “But when did you realize you had romantic feelings for him?”

“I’ve always liked Crowley, but I didn’t put it together until 1941.” Aziraphale glances at the stack of books of prophecy next to Anathema. “I was in a church-”

“Yes yes, but did things slow down when you started officially dating?” If she doesn’t keep this conversation moving, Aziraphale will go on for ages.

“After the Apocalypse, we realized that we don’t have all the time in the world so things actually spend up, quite considerably.”

Anathema is about to ask more questions when the shop bell rings. In saunters Crowley.

“Hello Anathema, you look lovely. How are the plants coming?” Crowley drapes himself across the sofa Aziraphale is sitting on. 

“Rather lovely, I never thought to yell at them.” Crowley’s head is turned towards Anathema but, she can tell his eyes are focused on Aziraphale.

“Let me know if they give you any trouble.” Crowley snakes his arm around Aziraphale’s shoulder.

“You want to be alone with Aziraphale.” Anathema stands up.

“Yes please,” Crowley says at the same time Aziraphale says, “Don’t worry about him.” They glare at each other but there’s no heat behind their eyes. At least no mean spirited heat.

Anathema rolls her eyes and smiles. “Can I take this?” She picks up the book she was reading. “I’ll bring it back.”

“I don’t know.” Aziraphale worries his lip, eyeing the book. It’s a first edition, very old, and extremely rare. So it’s like most books in his shop.

“Oh come on angel, Anathema is an expert at book care.” Crowley lowers his sunglasses so that Anathema can see him wink. “Besides, it’s the least you can do after what happened to her nice and accurate prophecies.” 

“Oh alright,” Aziraphale says much like Abraham said when he was asked to sacrifice Issac.

“Thanks, boys.” She carefully puts the book in her bag and winks back at Crowley.

A couple of days later, Anathema receives a letter in the mail. It’s a save the date for Crowley and Aziraphale’s wedding. Anathema is happy for them, of course, they’re her close friends. But she also feels anxious. They started dating after the apocalypse didn’t happen and she and Newt started dating then too. Aziraphale and Crowley have liked each other since the beginning of time. Anathema had known that she was supposed to like Newt since the beginning of her time. Should they be at this point? The idea of Newt getting down on one knee fills her with dread and that fills her with guilt.

She’s pulled out of her spiral of thoughts when her phone rings.

“Hey,” Newt says from the phone. His voice is slightly shakey like he was having the same crisis as Anathema. She doesn’t notice though, too wrapped up in her own crisis.

“Hello,” Anathema says, much better at hiding her crisis.

“Did you get an invitation too?”

“Yes.”

“Should we go as a couple?”

“I suppose we should.”

“Great.” Newt pauses, not sure where to go from here. He’s only been to family weddings without a date. He spends most of his time at those weddings explaining why he doesn’t have a girlfriend and taking advantage of the open bar. “Should we wear matching outfits?”

“It’s not prom, Newt.” Anathema looks at the card. The dress code is semi-formal. She can’t fathom what Aziraphale thinks semi-formal is. She doesn’t want to know what Crowley thinks semi-formal is. “Just wear something nice.”

“Should I pick you up?”

“I imagine so.” Anathema has also only been to family weddings without a date. She is not asked if she has a boyfriend but she does take advantage of the open bar.

Anathema and Newt don’t really talk in the month leading up to the wedding. Anathema decides that she should use their monthly date to help Newt pick out an outfit. They meet at a high-end department store.

Anathema is browsing suit jackets while Newt looks for a nice tie, not too flashy but not too plain. What do you wear to a wedding for an angel who’s a century behind on fashion and a demon who’s a century ahead on fashion?

“Can I help you, ma’am?”

Anathema turns around and sees a sales clerk. She wears a pair of dress slacks, a white button-up with the sleeves rolled up to her biceps and, a slim tie that hangs loosely around her neck. She has dark short hair in an undercut styled in an effortless way that takes at least an hour. Anathema feels her face flushing.

“Do you need help getting suit measurements, ma’am?”

“Ummm,” Anathema trails off, “No, I’m here with my...boyfriend.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean any offense.” The salesgirl bites her lip nervously, further flustering Anathema.

“None taken-” Anathema checks her name tag “-Harley.” She smoothes her hands over her dress. “I’m more a corset girl, anyways.”

Harley laughs and Anathema almost melts. “So your boyfriend-” and Anathema is pulled back to reality “-why is he looking for a new suit?”

“Why don’t we go find him.” She needs to find Newt right now. She needs to stay grounded and shake whatever she’s feeling for this salesgirl.

They find Newt in the tie section with two ties in hand. One with ducks all over it and one that is way too red. Why did Anathema let him make this decision?

“Newt.” Anathema smiles brightly at her boyfriend while she takes the ties from him. “This is Harley, she’s a sales clerk and she’s going to help us find a suit for you.”

“Excellent,” Newt sighs in relief.

“If you’ll just follow me to the dressing room, we can get your measurements.” Harley walks in front of the couple.

Anathema looks at Newt and his aura. He’s confused and slightly anxious. She looks at Harley’s aura. She’s mostly bored with a layer of forced pep. Okay, so this weird feeling isn’t jealousy. Maybe it’s just a want to be friends? Yeah, that’s probably it. Anathema doesn’t hang out with anyone other than the Them, Aziraphale, Crowley, and Newt. Yeah, she just needs to make friends her own age.

“So why are you looking for a suit, sir?” Harley asks as she grabs a measuring tape.

“Wedding,” Newt says, slightly distracted as he shrugs off his coat.

“Congratulations!” Harley beams at them.

“No, no, no,” Newt and Anathema say at the same time.

“We’re not getting married.” Anathema nervously adjusts her glasses.

“Not any time soon,” Newt adds. Anathema can’t look at him. Oh god, what if he proposes soon? She couldn’t say no but, could she say yes?

“My bad,” Harley says, “If you could just step here, sir.” She motions towards a box in front of three mirrors.

“The first rule of weddings,” Harley says, “You-” she points at Anathema “-can’t wear white. Don’t want to upstage the bride. You-” she pokes Newt “-can’t wear black. Don’t want to threaten the groom.”

“Actually,” Anathema chimes in, “there’s no bride.”

“Oh, a gay wedding.” Harley smiles and it feels more real than the usual smile retail workers wear. Anathema feels her heart racing. “Then there are no rules.” Harley looks at Newt. “Do you still want a suit?”

“The invitation said semi-formal,” he says.

“I see.”

Anathema and Newt share a look, she does not see.

They end up with a grey three-piece suit, to bring out Newt’s eyes, with a green tie and a pair of leather dress shoes. Anathema pays for it all, Newt doesn’t protest.

The day of the wedding, Newt shows up in Dick Turpin. All the tags are still on his suit but nothing is wrinkled. Anathema wears a grey dress with lavender lace covering the whole thing, it’s not dissimilar to her usual outfits. Her makeup is perfect. Her glasses are clean and pushed high up on her nose. Her hair is done up in a complex braid.

“You look lovely,” Newt says.

“So do you,” Anathema says.

They both mean their words but not in the way they want to. Newt kisses Anathema’s cheek and she smiles at him like one is supposed to when one’s boyfriend kisses one’s cheek.

“Are you ready?” Newt asks.

Anathema takes a deep breath. “As I’ll ever be.”

The wedding is outdoors (a church wasn’t an option). There’s an arch made of red roses and white lilies. Chairs are arranged to make an aisle. There’s a tent off to the side where the reception will be held. The whole affair is simple and sweet. Guest stand around talking.

“Alright, Newt,” Anathema says like she’s planning a battle strategy. “Time to mingle.”

Newt sighs and walks over to Shadwell and Madam Tracy. Anathema doesn’t see any of The Them so she looks for their parents.

“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Young.”

“Hello, Anathema.”

And the conversation stalls. Anathema has only talked to Adam’s parents at birthday parties, usually to explain why books about the occult are age-appropriate.

“So...where’s Adam?”

“He’s in the wedding, but we’re not quite sure what he’s doing,” Mrs. Young says with a nervous smile.

“Lovely weather, isn’t it?” Mr. Young says. He takes a drag off his pipe like he just said something clever.

Anathema and Mrs. Young exchange glances. Small talk is well and good but not that good.

“Have you meet Pepper’s parents, Anathema?” Mrs. Young waves over a couple.

“I believe I’ve met her mother,” Anathema says before the couple makes their way over. She’s definitely met Pepper’s mom but, she can’t pick her face or name out of her memory.

“Which one?” Mr. Young chuckles. Mrs. Young swats him on the arm.

Two women approach the group. One looks an awful lot like Pepper, dark skin and curly hair, but more grown-up. Her hair is pulled into a tight bun and wears a suit. The other woman wears a pencil skirt with a blouse. They walk arm in arm.

“Hello, Youngs, Anathema,” says the one in pencil skirt. Anathema has definitely met both of them before but never put it together that they’re both Pepper’s moms. She also can’t remember their names.

“Hello, Dearies,” Mrs. Young says. Mr. Young smiles politely. From across the venue, another set of parents wave at the Youngs.

“Deirdre, we must go say hello to the Wensleydales.” Mr. Young links his arm with his wife’s. “Please excuse us, ladies.”

And Anathema is left alone with two women she doesn’t know the names off.

“I’m sorry.” Anathema decides to bite the bullet and just ask. “I haven’t caught your names the last time we meet.”

“Ophelia,” says the one in the suit, “and this my wife, Camilla.”

“So, Anathema, Pepper tells us you’re a witch?” Camilla asks. Anathema is about to explain how she’s not a witch, she’s an occultist. Parents don’t like their kids playing with witches.

“That’s just lovely, witchcraft is a dying art.” Ophelia smiles and Camilla nods. Anathema is stunned into silence for a moment.

“Thank you.” Anathema smiles, finding Pepper’s moms quite enjoyable. “Pepper is a wonderful girl, really keeps the boys on their toes.”

“As she should,” Ophelia laughs.

“So how did you two meet?” Anathema finds herself curious about them in a way she hasn’t felt for the other parents.

“Well, we were both in the same hippie commune,” Camilla says.

“And after Pepper was born,” Ophelia adds, “we decided that men just weren’t for us.”

“We moved in together and I helped her with Pepper.” Camilla smiles and punches her wife in the arm. 

“We decided to have a ceremony to tie the knot when Pepper was five.” Ophelia spins the ring around her finger. “We basically were married in every except legally.”

“It just made sense.”

“Pepper got to be the flower girl.”

“But you were both in relationships with men before?” Anathema asks.

“Well, I’m bisexual,” says Ophelia, “But, Camilla just had a bad case of compulsive heterosexuality.”

“Huh,” Anathema says, the words making a little to much sense.

“Are you here with anyone, Anathema?” Camilla asks.

“Yeah,” Anathema says flatly, “My boyfriend, Newt.”

Before Pepper’s moms can respond, the wedding music starts up.

“We better take our seats.”

Anathema finds Newt and sits next to him. He smiles at her and squeezes her hand. She squeezes back with uncertainty. Anathema recognizes most everyone, although there’s a man in a grey suit and a short androgynous individual, both looking displeased with the whole affair, that she vaguely remembers from the airbase. And she’s pretty sure that the American ambassador and his wife are sitting in the second row.

The music swells and everyone quiets down. A woman walks down the aisle with an ancient bible, the oldest Anathema has ever seen. She has a motherly smile but a fatherly look in her eyes. Her hands are those of an artist. Anathema checks her aura and much like Adam, she can’t see it. She stands at the altar with the bible open.

Next, Brian and Wensleydale walk down the aisle, a basket held between them. They wear smart cream-colored suits with red roses on the lapel. Wensleydale whispers directions to Brian, trying to ensure an equal distribution of flower petals. Wensleydale’s did not factor in the petals sticking to Brian’s fingers.

Pepper follows, wearing a black suit with white flowers embroidered on it. She carries a pillow with two rings on it. Her moms wave at her, Pepper nods at them, taking her job as ring bearer very seriously.

Finally, Aziraphale and Crowley walk together arm in arm. Crowley carries a bouquet of roses and lilies that he glares at, they perk up and tremble with fear. He wears a black suit with red lapels and his usual sunglasses. He wears red stiletto heels to make himself even taller than Aziraphale. As usual, Aziraphale is wearing a suit with an awful lot of tartan. They both have cape-like things attached to their shoulders. Aziraphale’s is reminiscent of a bridal veil, white and lacy. Crowley’s is black with red underneath. Adam walks behind Aziraphale, carrying the end of the train. A boy wearing a dress and tie does the same for Crowley. The wife of the American Ambassador takes photos of him.

“Friends we are gathered here today to witness the union between Crowley and Aziraphale,” the woman says once they reach the altar. “I’ve witnessed a lot of weddings and none have I been more excited to see than this one. Many things have kept you two apart for many years but most the idea that your love is forbidden. I assure you, that the bond you two have is ineffable.” She winks with a proud smile.

“You may now exchange vows.”

Aziraphale clears his throat. “Crowley, I have known you since the beginning. Even though it took me a long time to realize, I’ve loved you since the beginning. You’re always there for me, no matter what trouble I get myself into. You’ve been patient with me and never go too fast, except when driving. I know we’ve fought in the past and we’ll fight in the future, but I want to hold onto you for eternity because you’re my world.” The angel whips at his misty eyes, smiling at Crowley with a greater fondness than he gives to his books.

Crowley lowers his sunglasses so that only Aziraphale can see his eyes. “Angel, ever since I met you in the garden, I knew that I wanted to spend eternity with you. You remind me that there’s good in the world. With you, I have a reason to wake up every morning. I will always be there for you and I will always be patient with you because I know you’ll do the same. I’d fight the forces of heaven and hell for you because, angel, you’re my world.”

The woman smiles at Crowley and Aziraphale like a mother. “May we have the rings, please?”

Pepper moves forward. Two rings sit on the pillow in her hand. One is shaped like two silver wings, the other is a golden serpent. Aziraphale picks up the wings and Crowley grabs the snake.

“Aziraphale,” the woman says, “do you take Crowley to be your husband?”

“I do.” Aziraphale takes Crowley’s hand and slips the ring on his finger.

“Crowley,” the woman says, “Do you take Aziraphale to be your husband?”

“I do.” Crowley takes Aziraphale’s hand and slips the ring on his finger. They clasp their hands together, letting the rings clink together.

“Then by the power vested in me by me, I pronounce you husband and husband. You may know kiss.”

Everyone stands and claps as Crowley and Aziraphale kiss. The kiss is filled with as much longing and passion as if it’s their first. Aziraphale clutches Crowley close. When they pull away, they’re both flushed and smiling.

Anathema looks to Newt. She’s never kissed him like that. Maybe she never will.

At the reception, there’s cake and lots of alcohol. So a normal reception. The Them, Dog, and the son of the American Ambassadors run around causing a general ruckus while the adults sit around talking, being boring.

“How’d you like the wedding, Newt?” Anathema sips on her third glass of champagne.

“It was nice,” Newt says, also on his third glass.

“Do you love me like that?” The alcohol skips the steps that usually would have to be taken to get to this point. She motions towards Aziraphale and Crowley who are holding hands while Aziraphale eats a slice of cake.

Newt chokes on his drink. “You want me to love you as much as two people who have known each other since the beginning of time?”

Anathema downs her whole glass. “We were destined to be together, Newt. Why can’t we be more like them?” Aziraphale is watching the Them with slight distress while Crowley watches with Pride.

“Anathema, are you alright?” Newt places his hand on Anathema's shoulder. Anathema grabs his hand and holds it.

“Newt, I think-” She’s interrupted by a clinking of glass.

Crowley stands with a champagne glass in one hand and a spoon in the other. “We want to thank you all for coming, this has been a wonderful celebration. We’re going to do the bouquet toss.” Crowley glares at the bouquet before handing it to Aziraphale.

All the unmarried people (aside from the kids) stand in the middle of the reception. Everyone wears hopeful excited smiles and Anathema tries to mimic it. Her hands are sweaty and there’s a terrible feeling in the pit of her stomach. Aziraphale turns around and tosses the bouquet over his shoulder. Everyone holds their hands up with excited giggles. Anathema screws her eyes closed and holds her hands up.

“Anathema, that’s amazing.” Newt smiles at Anathema but it’s a strained smile.

Anathema holds the bouquet in her hands. She stares down at in surprise. How did she catch it, of all people? She desperately wishes it would just burst into flames.

Anathema pulls Newt close and kisses him as one is supposed to kiss one’s boyfriend.

“Should we go back to your place?” Newt’s cheeks are flushed and lips are slightly swollen.

“Yeah, we should do that.” Anathema kisses him again, trying to reignite the spark between them.

They drive back to Jasmine cottage, Anathema holds Newt’s hand while he drives and it feels tender but not quite right.

Anathema doesn’t fumble with her key to unlock the door. Clothes are not ripped off in a frenzy but they are taken off. And they kiss on the bed until it feels right to have sex on the bed.

Once they finish, Anathema lays there feeling unsatisfied. This was supposed to snap everything back into place. This was supposed to be spectacular and make her feel good about spending the rest of their short lives together. Newt lays next to her feeling the same.

“I have something to confuse,” they blurt out at the same time. They look at each other, both extremely nervous.

“Let's just say it at the same time,” Anathema says. Newt nods. They both take a deep breath.

“I think I’m gay,” they say together in one quick breath, wanting the words out as if they’d burn if they stayed inside.

“What,” Newt says with relief and confusion.

“Well not gay,” Anathema clarifies, “I’m a lesbian, I think like exclusively attracted to girls.”

“That’s alright,” Newt says, “great actually.”

“So, you’re gay?” Anathema asks.

“Well not gay,” Newt clarifies, “I’m asexual, I think, like no physical attraction to anyone. But I’m biromantic.”

“Sounds like you’ve been putting some thought into this.” Anathema gets out of bed and puts on a nightgown. She throws Newt’s boxers to him and a pair of pajama pants.

“Yeah.” Newt gets out of bed and gets dressed. “After we started dating, I realized that we didn’t click but, I wanted to stay together for your sake.”

“Yeah,” Anathema sighs, “I just stayed with you because of the prophecy.”

“So we’re broken up now?” Newt has never broken up with someone before.

“I suppose so.” Anathema also hasn’t broken up with someone before. “We can still be friends though.”

“Should I sleep on the couch?”

“If you’d like.” Anathema gets back into bed. “We’ve slept in the same bed before, now we can do it without the uncomfortable cuddling.”

Newt weighs his options then slips into bed. “Should we tell people?”

“That we’re broken up?”

“No, well yes, but that you’re a lesbian and that I’m asexual.”

“Yeah, I think we should,” Anathema says, “let’s start with someone we know will be cool with it.”

Anathema and Newt sit in Aziraphale’s bookshop, cups of tea in their hands. Aziraphale and Crowley sit across from them, also with tea in hand.

“How was the honeymoon?” Anathema asks.

“Lovely, Alpha Centauri is beautiful this time of year.” Crowley smiles at his husband. Aziraphale holds Crowley’s hand, squeezing it gently.

“We had so much fun and there was lots of leftover wedding cake.” Aziraphale takes a sip of his tea then turns to Anathema and Newt. “Is there something you two came by to say?”

“Yes, actually.” Anathema and Newt smile at each other.

“We broke up,” they announce as one would announce their engagement.

“Oh.” Crowley’s not sure if he’s reading their tone wrong or is just behind on human lingo.

“Why is that?” Aziraphale glances between the two with confusion.

“I’m a lesbian.” The words sound strange to Anathema. Sure, she said them to Newt and to herself in the mirror several times but telling Aziraphale and Crowley feels big even though she knows they’ll be okay with it.

“That’s wonderful.” Aziraphale smiles with the warmth of a grandfather that you’ve always been close to despite only see each other for holidays. Anathema feels safe and suddenly her identity feels real. Yeah, it is wonderful.

“I can introduce you to some friends, if you like,” Crowley says.

“That’s alright.” Anathema can’t imagine the type of women Crowley is friends with. Well, she can, but that’s the type of person you date when you’re very comfortable with your sexuality.

“Newt, do you have anything to tell us?” Aziraphale notices Newt bouncing his leg and drinking a lot of tea.

“Y-yeah,” he stutters out, “I’m asexual and biromantic. That means-”

“We know what it means,” Crowley cuts him off.

“You do?” Newt almost doesn’t believe them, worried they might take it the wrong way and think it means there’s something wrong with him. “I had to explain it to my mom for an hour.”

“Well, we’re asexual,” Aziraphale says.

“Sort of, it’s a human term.” Crowley shrugs. “We were created before the concept of gender or sexuality so it takes an effort to do anything related to them.”

“Huh,” Newt says because he doesn’t know what that means or entails.

“So if you don’t have a gender, why be men?” 

“Just easier.” Crowley shrugs. “I presented femininely for a decade and Hell got mad at me for killing the catcalling industry.”

“Literally.” Aziraphale glares at Crowley but he’s not that angry.

“I tried being a woman for a while, I found that corsets weren’t to my taste and the whole outfit just fell apart without it.”

“You don’t need to wear a corset anymore,” Anathema says, wearing a corset. The outfit really does fall apart without it.

“We could try again sometime.” Aziraphale looks at Crowley with a curious smile. His husband returns it.

“Maybe for your wedding, Anathema,” Crowley says.

“My wedding?” Anathema sputters. She just became single.

“You caught the bouquet,” Aziraphale says, “that means you’ll be the next one to get married.”

“That’s just a tradition, it doesn’t mean anything.”

“Oh, of course,” Aziraphale says. He definitely didn’t use a miracle on the bouquet. And he definitely didn’t expect Anathema and Newt to announce their engagement.

“Well, it was nice talking to you guys but, we have a lunch date.” Anathema grabs her bag. Aziraphale and Crowley hug her, giving her a few more congratulations. Newt tries to protest but he also gets hugs.

Anathema and Newt get lunch at a deli shop a couple of blocks away.

“So,” Anathema says, swallowing a bite of sandwich, “you told your mom?”

Newt freezes mid-bite. He chews and swallows before wiping his mouth with a napkin. “I figured she should be the first to know.”

“Yeah, that’s good.” Anathema thinks of her parents. She doesn’t want to think about how her parents will take it. “How’d she take it?”

“After she understood what being asexual means and the difference between romantic and sexual attraction, she was quite happy. She’s just glad that I felt comfortable to tell her. She’s also glad that you and I are still friends, she thinks you’re a good influence.”

“That’s good.” Anathema tries to sound happy for him but she can’t keep the jealousy out of her voice.

“Have you told your parents yet?” Newt nudges Anathema’s arm. It’s awkward because he has to do it across the table but the gesture is still comforting.

“No,” Anathema sighs, “I just, I don’t want to let them down. Agnes said that you and I are supposed to be together, we’ve been listening to her for so long that I don’t know how to be without her. I doubt my parents or the rest of my family do either.”

“You have to tell them.” Newt squeezes Anathema’s hand and it’s reassuring in the way it never could be when they were a couple. “If they don’t accept it, you always have me, my mom, Aziraphale and Crowley, Adam and his whole gang. You’ve made your own family, Anathema.”

“You’re right.” Anathema fishes her phone out of her bag and calls her mom.

“I mean you do have to tell them, but not right now,” Newt says.

“No, it’s now or never.” Anathema stares at the phone like it’s a bomb. Then her mom picks up.

“¿Hola mi amor como estas?” Anathema’s mom’s face appears on the screen. She’s cooking something in the kitchen and seems happy to see her daughter.

“Hola mamá. Estoy bien, pero hay algo que necesito decirte.” Anathema holds the phone away from her as if it could explode.

“What’s wrong, sweetie?” Anathema’s mom puts down the spoon she was stirring with.

“I broke up with Newt.” Anathema flinches away from the screen, anticipating a harsh response.

“Oh that’s wonderful news sweetie, we all think you are too good for that boy.”

“Wait, what?” Anathema’s tension melts into confusion.

“Yeah, wait what?” Newt moves to the other side of the table so that he can see the screen.

“Oh, hello, Newt.” Anathema’s mom waves, only a little embarrassed by her words.

“Mamá, What about the prophecy?” 

“We don’t have any more prophecies, sweetie. You can do whatever you want now, that’s why we haven’t pressured you to come back to America.”

“So, you’re not mad?” Anathema holds the phone closer to her.

“Of course not, mi amor, I just want you to be happy.” Anathema’s mom smiles.

“Well, this makes this next part easier.” Anathema takes a deep breath. “I’m a lesbian.”

“Oh. Do you have a girlfriend?”

“No, I just thought I should tell you.” Anathema rubs her arm. She’s glad that her mom is fine with it but, she was expecting a bit more.

“Well, I’m glad you told me, mi amor.” Anathema’s mom reaches her hand toward the screen as if she could hold her daughter. “Why don’t you come back home for a while and you can tell the rest of the family. We miss you.”

“That sounds nice, mamá.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, please leave a comment or kudos! You can follow me on tumblr @stackthedeck. You can also check out my other fics if you like Good Omens


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